“No.” Shay bent and picked up the candlestick to hide her shock. He lived here. Her reports on Cody were always the same, off fighting battles in some godforsaken place, putting himself in death’s way so other people could live free. And now, here he was standing in front of her, larger than life, and all the accusations she thought would come shooting off her tongue if she ever saw him again had dried up and blown away. All she could think about was twining her fingers in his hair and kissing him, finding out if his lips felt as familiar as his body had, pressed against hers. Getagrip, Shay. “Are you still Special Forces?”

“No. I’m a PI now. I have an office in town. I’m surprised Nina didn’t tell you.”

Why hadn’t she? If Shay had given in to Nina’s pleas and moved back here, it would have been one heck of a shock. She licked her lips. “I need a drink.”

Cody nodded, watching her. “Nina has wine, but you don’t…” he cleared his throat. “Do you drink wine now?”

She’d tried it once, when she was sixteen. They’d sneaked one of Nina’s bottles out to the lake. Half a bottle later, Shay threw up in the bushes while Cody held her hair. “No.” But it might be a good time to start. “I’ll see what’s in the fridge. I fell asleep as soon as I got here.” She hadn’t even brushed her teeth or washed her face. She probably had mascara smeared under her eyes.

“Should be something here. We try to keep a few things on hand in case Nina pops in.”

Shay set the candlestick by the stairs, and Cody followed her into the big kitchen where she’d eaten most of her childhood meals, more often than not, with a MacBain boy or two, sometimes all three, joining them at the table. TheFourMusketeers, Nina had called them.

Shay found two cans of soda in the fridge and turned to find Cody leaning against the counter studying her, something working hard behind his eyes.